Scandia's Sewing Tutorial
by The Sterling Dragon
Summary: After having seen his sons' horrible needle work when they had to stitch a wound, Scandia, the King of Northern Europe- has decided to take it upon himself to teach his sons how to sew. Naturally, being a single father to three sons he would be foolish to think that things would go smoothly.


Whhaaaaaa? Sterling is posting again!? It's only been what, three years? Yes, that is right my glorious minions, I have returned so be prepared to shit a brick and read this recovered story I have found on my computer. You may be wondering what I have been doing these past three years and the answer to that is I have been on this lovely site, I've just been RPing all this time and I forgot you can actually post stories here so... :P yeah. Sorry 'bout that.

Scandia looked at his sons with something akin to disappointment. For the most part it was directed at his eldest two sons, Denmark and Sweden. He had left for a week on a hunting trip. _One week_. And when he came back it seemed as though Ragnarök had occurred right on the homestead. And things had only gotten worse when Scandia had rushed into his home to check on his sons, worried since a snowstorm had hit the area not long after he left on his trip. Scandia pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on. When he had entered he found his youngest son, his arm practically severed, comatose in his bed. Victim to the worst stitching job Scandia had ever seen in his life. It was so bad that it had made the older personification pass out at the sight of it.

Scandia refused to talk about passing out at the sight of his son's injury, but that brought up the fact that his sons, namely Sweden, couldn't sew. And seeing as Scandia didn't want to pass out again from another terrible stitching job he decided that he needed to put an end to that as soon as he could. So, once Norway had woken up and was well enough to at least sit up for long periods of time without feeling woozy Scandia got straight to work.

It didn't take long for him to realize that his sons were utterly hopeless.

Sweden had somehow created a knot of thread on his scrap of fabric, but he received points for creativity. Denmark flat out refused to learn how to sew-needles and Denmark don't mix. And Norway just stared blankly at his father obviously just wanting to rest.

You'll be fine, they said. Boys are easy to raise, they said. Well, 'they' had obviously never met his boys. Scandia couldn't believe that his three sons had no idea how to do something so simple. He thought that he could get lucky and dump the three teens on Norway's mentor but she was conveniently out of town the day after he'd mentioned teaching his children how to sew.

And here Scandia thought she'd rather stay and watch the show. Apparently he was wrong. Yet, Scandia didn't find himself blaming the wise-woman in her choice to make herself scarce while three teen-aged boys were learning the art of the needle and thread. Scandia would be happy if they didn't poke an eye out by the time they'd learn.

"This is stupid…" Denmark's mumbled complaint brought Scandia out of his musings. Great. Now it was time for the hormone-fueled rebellion. At least he could count on Denmark to be somewhat consistent in his behavior. Sweden on the other hand… well, no one really knew with him and Norway was always rebelling when he was well enough. But Denmark, Denmark was always himself and this is one of the times Scandia wished he wasn't.

"It's not stupid Mathias. And you have Berwald to thank for this." Scandia responded dryly. Causing Sweden to flinch guiltily and find the floor to be interesting.

Denmark was not amused. "But I don't _like_ needles! I shouldn't have to learn!"

Scandia sighed. It was going to be a long day.

And a long day it was, for Denmark's complaining took up most of Scandia's time and the rest of it was taken up by the Ancient and Norway arguing. It only proves how ineffective Scandia is as a teacher by the time the day is done. Despite being exhausted from the stress and frustration of trying to teach three stubborn boys Scandia found himself being kept up by Denmark and Sweden's petty squabbling. It was after midnight too and it seemed as though there was no relief from this argument on… what to eat. Scandia groaned inwardly. His sons were going to eat him out of house and home and he'd be too tired to do anything about it. That was until his youngest son snapped at his older brothers to shut up.

It worked and Scandia was able to sleep soundly for the rest of the night, thankful that his older sons were intimidated by the youngest.

The next morning's peace was almost instantly shattered by the bickering of three brothers. Denmark was complaining about the sewing lessons, Sweden was complaining about the lack of food, and Norway was grumbling something incoherent about wanting his brothers to shut up. Scandia stumbled into the room after having gotten the best night's sleep since he'd returned home. The Ancient had forgotten how much energy his sons had and he now understood why Norway's mentor had left him to deal with the young Vikings by himself. It still didn't make things fair.

Scandia was shaken from his thoughts when Mathias came over to him, begging his Far to allow him to do something else rather than sew. The older blond contemplated allowing his son to skip the lesson, but he soon remembered that he had two younger sons and he'd never hear the end of it if Mathias was allowed to skip.

"No." Scandia replied flatly, wishing he'd stayed in bed and had someone from in town teach his sons. But no, he just _had_ to save money, and now he was going to pay for it.

Mathias pouts childishly not acting at all like his age. "But I don't _like_ needles. If you cared you wouldn't force me to learn."

"You're going to learn whether you want to or not, Mathias. You might not have to learn if Lukas hadn't experimented with magic like he did." His father retorts, effectively ending the conversation. "Lessons start in a half hour; I expect the three of you to be ready by then. And that means back here with your morning chores finished, Berwald." The Ancient says looking at his middle child who is famous for skipping morning chores and tricking Denmark into doing them for him. Sweden looks at his Far innocently before leaving with his older brother to do his chores.

Lukas stays inside, he's been confined to the house for the rest of his recovery so he has no choice but to do the cleaning and cooking for the rest of the family. A part of him hated his mentor for making him stay with his father for the rest of his recovery, but the smaller Nordic understood that it was his fault that he'd ended up with his arm almost torn off. The blond paused in his cleaning to look over at his Far. According to Denmark, their father had fainted when he'd seen the injury so Lukas figured that he was also the reason for their sudden need for sewing lessons.

Feeling eyes on him, Scandia turned to see his youngest son staring at him, cleaning rag in hand and eyes narrow. It unnerves the ancient to the point that he leaves the fire where breakfast is cooking to attempt to snap the youngest member of the family out of it. He doesn't even need to touch Norway before the younger blond flinches, snapped out of his day dream from the sudden presence of his father.

"What?" The young Nordic snapped at his father.

"Why are you not cleaning?" Scandia retorted, his patience too thin to deal with Norway's attitude this early in the morning.

"My dominant arm is in a sling, so I'm sorry if I'm a little slow." There's a slight pause after the scathing response before Lukas adds, "Your highness." And with that the young blond moved to a different part of the house leaving his father stunned. That is until the Ancient remembered that his breakfast was on the fire resulting in a rush to save his food.

Scandia is barely able to finish eating his food in peace before his two older sons come in from their morning chores and eat the rest, leaving just enough for Lukas and robbing their father of seconds. Needless to say, Scandia was unappreciative of his sons' appetite so he decided to start the sewing lesson early to avenge his lost food.

It went about as smoothly as a shipwreck.

Sweden's patch of cloth was still a mess with stitches that were too tight, and rows that were crooked. Denmark was refusing to even touch the needle and patch of fabric that he was given. While Norway glared at their father, clearly unable to sew with his arm in a sling. And Scandia's frustration was mounting with his inability to teach his sons something that was clearly so simple. The Ancient hated to admit that he might need Saga's guidance.

There was a faint curse from Sweden when the Nordic pricked himself with the needle. It was clear that he was frustrated with his father's unhelpful teaching methods. And it just kept going downhill from there with Denmark walking out of the house in a huff and Norway complaining that he was at a disadvantage with only one arm.

Scandia didn't last much longer before he lost his temper. He snapped at Denmark to come back and yelled at all three of them for wasting his time before storming off. Sweden watched as his father left, feeling guilty of his bad stitching job when Norway had his accident with the dragon of death that fateful day.

Scandia made his way to the stables behind the house, grumbling to himself under his breath about how this is Saga's fault for putting such thoughts into Lukas' head about summoning magic. The Ancient just _knew_ it was too dangerous for his son to learn anything about magic, let alone summon creatures. It was much safer to fight with a physical weapon as opposed to the complexity of magic. That was something that Scandia had learned for himself when he was younger.

Tightening the girth on his horse one last time, the blond man began the long ride into town to search for the wise-woman that was supposed to train his youngest son in magic. It was about time that she stepped up and taught Lukas how to sew and it wasn't because of Scandia's inability to teach his sons. No, he was more than capable with his experience in Rome's military and various mercenary jobs he'd taken on, Scandia was more than experienced. His sons were just teenagers and were therefore naturally unwilling to learn new things. That had to be it. It was the perfect thing to tell Saga when he finally found her.

The blond man was so deep into his own little world that he did not notice the farm cat that ran across his horse's path, spooking the large animal. The stallion reared and Scandia grappled to maintain his seat. "Son of a bitch!" Scandia cursed, unable to reach his horse's martingale in time to hold on. He fell, knocking the wind out of himself as his horse landed, snorting and looking at the gasping ancient as though he were an idiot. Scandia only glared, swearing that even the horse was laughing at him, which for all intents and purposes it was.

Scandia managed to regain his breath and made sure he didn't hurt his back. Relieved that he wasn't crippled from such a fall the blond man slowly got up, knowing he was going to feel sore later. He limped over to the stallion that was now busy grazing on some sweet grass that grew on the side of the road. Scandia pulled the animal away and started leading it down the path. It was clear that he didn't want to walk but didn't have a choice since he didn't want his horse to choke on the grass it just _had_ to eat.

Because of his tumble, and the fact that the ancient now had to walk, it took Scandia twice as long to get into town than it normally did. By the time that he arrived it was already dusk and the man didn't think there would be any chance of finding the wise-woman or making it back to the homestead before nightfall. Happy that he was carrying some coin, Scandia was able to rent a room at the local inn for the night. He intended on starting his search again in the morning.

Scandia woke the next morning and _everything_ was sore; his back, his shoulders, his neck. And it was all because that _stupid_ horse just _had_ to spook at a cat. Scandia thought he'd trained that thing to be a warhorse for a reason. The ancient was too busy blaming the horse that he'd forgotten that it was _his_ fault that he'd fallen off. However, Scandia would never admit to it not being his fault and instead of wallowing in his misery, the ancient decided to make someone else's day miserable. How nice of him.

After getting ready for the day, Scandia made his way out of the inn to find the wise-woman who was supposed to be his son's mentor. It wasn't that difficult for the blond man to find Saga. She was in a tavern enjoying her breakfast after visiting her patients in town to make sure they were healing well. Scandia narrowed his eyes, intending on putting an end to Saga's enjoyable morning. And just like always, it wasn't going to end well for him.

Storming up to the middle-aged woman Scandia attempted to make himself look intimidating to her. "Where have you been?" The Ancient questioned, eager to cause a scene.

"Since when have I ever answered to you?" Saga responded calmly, not even bothering to look at the Ancient as she sips her warm cider. She was trying to salvage her once peaceful morning.

"Well, I-"

"Exactly. Run along now, I have patients to tend to and they complain enough without you." Saga says, promptly ending Scandia's weak attempt to argue with her. She smirked into her cider as the Ancient promptly reddened and turned on his heel before storming off. The wise-woman figured that she should head back to the homestead to check on Lukas, after all she didn't want to deal with Scandia's whining all day. And who could blame her?

Scandia's only accomplishment that he achieved in going to town was not falling off his horse on the ride back. The ancient wasn't even sure if Saga was going to return to teach his sons how to sew. But at least he tried.

The blond man led his stallion to the pasture and let the horse go out to graze. The animal promptly put its head to the ground and started to tear up the grass viciously. Deciding that since he was already outside, the Ancient rested against the railing for the fence and enjoyed a few minutes without having to deal with three boys. And a few moments were all he got for it was winter and the sun had quickly set leaving the blond man out in the cold. He decided that his horse had had enough time to graze for one day and led the animal into the barn. Scandia then promptly retreated into his house.

What Scandia saw when he entered the house surprised him. Saga had taught his sons how to sew. Lukas was leaning against his mentor and proudly showing her his scrap of fabric with the stitches he'd been practicing. The lines were crooked, but he'd gotten farther then he had with Scandia. Sweden was the same, only he had worked until he'd perfected his stitches, clearly feeling the guilt from almost killing his brother when the dragon of death had attacked. Saga had even gotten Mathias to stitch a single line.

But what the Ancient didn't know, and probably would never know, was that Saga had bribed Lukas with a story, held Mathias' hand whenever she brought a (blunt) needle near him, and had promised Sweden that if he knew how to sew then he'd be able to save his brothers if they got hurt. It had taken over an hour and a half to convince them to behave, but Saga was just satisfied that she taught them before Scandia could. Yet, the overarching lesson was, think before you do something stupid. Whether or not Scandia's kids would ever learn that lesson, Saga had no idea but she'd do her best to teach them since their father was just as bad.


End file.
